


A Match made in Therapy

by Tired_College_Student_Writing



Category: Daredevil (TV), Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Gil Arroyo is Malcolm Bright's Parent, and Matt's too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tired_College_Student_Writing/pseuds/Tired_College_Student_Writing
Summary: Summary: JT and Dani know that outside of the Team Bright had very few people in his life. It was them, Gil, his mother, sister, therapist, parakeet, and his serial killer father. His circle of friends was small, but not as small as they seemed to think.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & Matt Murdock, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock & Gil Arroyo
Comments: 37
Kudos: 288





	1. Chapter 1

“Yo, man you can’t be in here,” JT snapped as a tall, well-dressed man appeared in the doorway of the conference room. The leak of their possible serial killer, seven drowned men found in the same location, deaths ranging eight months, was much too high already and they wanted to keep the story under wraps as long as they could.

“Calm down, JT,” Gil said, mirth tickling his voice, “Matt’s a friend. Plus it’s not like he can see what we’re working on.” 

“What do you mean-” 

The man, Matt, smirked slightly as Dani’s words dried up in her throat as his white cane tapped over the ground lightly, “Don’t worry, I’m used to it. I won’t take up too much of your time, I just heard Gil in here and thought I would say hello while I wait for the administrative desk to retrieve forms I can read.” 

“Please tell me you aren’t here for Harriet Ludman,” Gil asked, causing the other man’s lips to twist upward.

“No, Jessica Jones, but I could give your woman a listen if you thought my ‘superpower’ was admissible in court.”

“What?” 

He chuckled at JT’s question, “Gil and Mal always said I was like a human lie detector. Always could tell if someone was being truthful.” 

Gil snorted, “Also the only lawyer I know with a moral code.” 

“Hey,” Matt said with mock hurt, “Foggy Nelson works alongside me in our fight for justice.” 

“Uh-huh,” Gil hummed before grinning, “Might want to take a step to the left and cover the door with that cane,” 

Matt looked bemused, “Who am I tripping?” 

“You’ll see,”

“No, I-” Matt cut himself off with a tilt of his head, “Is that…” 

The detectives looked on in confusion as a crooked smile splits his face and he quickly steps back until he finds the doorframe and flattens his back to the left of it, cane crossing the entire doorway just below knee height. 

“What are you-“ 

Gil shushed them, “Just watch,”

“Edrisa’s autopsy is back!” Malcolm called before reaching the door, “It turns out I was right about the vics being dead before being submerGED!”

His words spiked as his legs were swept out from under him, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

Dani attempted to hold back a snort as JT cackled openly at the profiler’s misfortune alongside Gil’s fond laughter.

Bright blinked up from the floor as he rolled onto his back, Matt smirking down at him.

“One of these days you’ll have to explain how a profiler can be so unobservant, Mal,” Matt teased lightly as he held out a hand. 

“Please tell me you aren’t here for Harriet Ludman,” Malcolm groaned, grasping the offered hand. 

Matt smirk grew with mirth, “Can’t say I am.” 

Malcolm’s face broke into a wide smile as he pulled the other man into a hug shocking the detectives. Bright wasn’t the type to initiate touch regularly. Sure he would give the occasional arm pat to them, or offer a comforting hand to hold to a distraught family member they were interviewing, but anything past that that wasn’t strictly necessary, someone else had to reach out first.

And yet the embrace between the pair was a level of comfort like they rarely saw in their profiler. 

“It’s so good to see you, Mattie ” 

“I would return the sentiment but,” he started with a sly grin only for Malcolm to groan and shove him away and towards Gil, who gave a deep chuckle before wrapping an arm around the blind man’s shoulders. 

“It is nice to see you two together again,” Gil said, earning a cheeky grin from Matt before he added, “That was not an opening.” 

“Yes, it was,” Matt countered.

‘“Not that I don’t enjoy Bright getting knocked on his ass,” JT cut in, “But how do you guys know each other?” 

Malcolm was practically bouncing, “Matt and I are childhood friends, we met shortly after the Surgeon's trial.” 

“He didn’t judge me for being a walking Dickens’ character, and I couldn’t see that he was the Surgeon’s son, nor did I care anyways so we stuck together,” Matt agreed with a grin, “Gil and Jackie basically adopted both of us after we met.” 

“Walking Dickens's character?” JT snorted, “Interesting description.” 

“A catholic orphan who was blinded while saving an old man and found his dad murdered,” Malcolm rattled off only to whacked with Matt’s cane, “Ow!” 

“Oversharing again, resident. Plus you know what they say about throwing stones.” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, “They already know about my dad and still put up with me, Dani even said I was a friend! They’re not going treat you like you’re made of glass, Murdock, and if they do I’ll convince Gil to put them both on desk duty. ” 

JT startled looking at Malcolm like he just poured coffee on his lap, “What I had to say it allowed for you to get it?” 

Malcolm looked confused, “What?” 

“I put up with your skinny ass crashing my date with Tally, and you didn’t think we were friends?” 

The profiler froze, “Really?” 

“Yes, Bright,” the older man huffed, “geeze keep up.” 

“Oh…” 

“As happy I am that Mal actually managed to make more friends,” Matt cut in sounding entirely sincere, before he pointed an accusatory finger about four inches left of Malcolm’s shoulder, “I want to know why no one told me you were back to New York.” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, “Ah yes, let me just find the man that changed his number, and moved apartments since I was last in New York.” 

Matt pouted, “My law firm is well known enough after the whole Fisk debacle that you could have found me.” 

“Fisk?” Malcolm asked with a scrunched brow, earning an eye roll from Matt. 

“ Yes, massive kingpin, fist fought some guy in horns named Daredevil? The weirdo brought all the legal stuff to take down Fisk to Foggy and I, ring any bells?” Matt snarked, “It ended a little over four months ago.” 

“Ah,” Malcolm winced, “I was… occupied during that time period,” 

“What,” 

“I was-”

“No,” Matt’s face hardened, his glasses suddenly casting dark shadows over his face, “I heard you. What do you mean you were ‘occupied’?” 

Malcolm shot a helpless look at his team only for Gil to raise a brow, “I’m not touching this, you’re the one that woke up Mama Murdock, you can explain.” 

“Well, I-”

“Matt,” A blond head poked into the door, What are you doing in here? We’re needed in room 3.” 

Malcolm’s panic shift to glee, “Hi Foggy,” 

The blond paled, “No,” 

“No what?” 

“No, you stay away from me murder boy!” he barked, setting the team on edge only for Malcolm to laugh with glee and edge towards him, earning a yelp as he dived behind Matt, shoving holding onto the blind man’s shoulders. 

“Ah, come on Foggy,” Matt teased, as he let the other man use him as a shield, “You love Malcolm.” 

“I did,” He groaned, “but last time he got near me we ended up with the beer cheese incident.” 

“I don’t even want to know,” Gil sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “You really can’t be in here Foggy,” 

“Gil!” Foggy grinned, “No wonder Malcolm’s here,” 

“I can go places without Gil you know,” Malcolm piped up only to earn a round of snickers around the room. 

Matt reached out and stroked the air a few times before successfully patting Malcolm’s shoulder, “Of course you can, Just as long as Jessica is tracking that chip she planted in your arm.”

“Mother didn’t chip me,” Malcolm countered, “I’m a person, not a dog.” 

“Maybe she should have,” Foggy snarked, “You’d probably have a few less near-death experiences.” 

“Amen to that,” JT mumbled earning two cheeky grins from the pair of lawyers only for Foggy’s eyebrows to jump skyward as he saw one of the pictures posted on the wall of a bloated body. 

“Definitely wasn’t supposed to see that,” He groaned, slapping a hand over his eyes, “Matt it’s so gross, it looks like someone blew that guy up with a bicycle pump I’m jealous of your lack of eyes.” 

“Eyes still exist, and are still in my head thank you,” He countered with a tone that spoke of how ridiculous he found the statement that he clearly said more often than expected, “But we really should leave, Jessica is waiting.” 

Foggy groaned, moving towards the door, “Jones needs to stop breaking fire escapes.” 

“Who did what now?” Dani asked looking amused. 

Matt smirked, “You represent one vigilante, suddenly all the rest want you to be their lawyer too. Mrs. Jones is one of them.” 

“Wait, Jessica Jones, as in the Jessica Jones that works with Luke Cage, and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” Dani asked with surprise, Malcolm’s eyes flashed wide when he heard the list. 

Foggy flashed a cheeky grin, “He goes by Daredevil now, but yeah. They’re our clients and we’re late for meeting with our client, so it was nice meeting you all but we should head out,” 

“Don’t be strangers,” Gil offered, “But Foggy,” 

“Don’t mention anything about what I saw,” He relayed back with a dismissive wave, “I know. I’m already trying to block out whatever happened to that dude from my head, I won’t risk your investigation.” 

“We’re not done talking Malcolm,” Matt called as he grabbed onto Foggy’s elbow, “I still need to hear about what had you so preoccupied.” 

“I have a feeling we have a lot of catching up to do,” the response made the lawyers pause, “I’d love to hear more about this Daredevil fellow and the other heroes you’ve worked with.” 

Matt gave a small smile, “Clearly you don’t know much about them. They’re not exactly heroes.” 

“I have a feeling they are.” 


	2. Destined Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Malcolm are best friends now, but how did these chaotic messes begin?

Stick hadn’t visited in a month. 

The one person that had stuck around after Dad had died had left, all because Matt was too soft, too eager to have someone who liked him in his life. 

He wanted to go back, stop himself from making that damn bracelet, prevent him from chasing off the only one that didn’t treat him like he was a freak. 

But he couldn’t. 

So instead of being pulled out of the orphanage to train and hone his skills, he was drug along on the weekly trip to Central Park, the little kids excited to go on the carousel that had just started back up in the last month, the older kids scheming on how to get away from the nuns for a bit. 

He couldn’t stop from wrinkling his nose when Sister Joella asked if he was going to ride the carousel as she led him through the streets as if at twelve years old he wasn’t one of the oldest kids in the orphanage. 

Instead, he parked himself on a bench as far away from the puke-covered rusty ride filled with mechanical squeals and screaming children, Thurgood Marshall braille book nestled in his lap as his fingers ran over the words, trying to tune out the harsh words of the nuns trying to keep all the children in line. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” 

Matt flinched, head snapping towards the noise on reflex even if he couldn’t see the boy next to him. He hadn’t noticed his approach, Stick would kick his ass for being so lost in thought, but now he could read the boy easily, young, maybe a year younger than Matt, nervous and hands shaking slightly as he gripped a thick book. 

“No, go ahead,” Matt offered easily, fingers falling back to his book. 

“Thanks, I would have gone to one of the benches closer to the carousel but I didn’t want to get in between yelling nuns.” 

Matt snorted, “Good call, Sister Mary Alice is wicked when she’s mad and has been known to yell at anyone that gets too close when she’s in a mood.” 

“Fun,” the dry response made Matt smirk, “I’ll just stay over here and let my sister try and get past her to the carousel with our n… babysitter.”

Matt didn’t comment on the slip-up but grimaced slightly in his mind. Rich Boy then, not surprisingly, the Upper East Side was just about the same distance from the carousel as Hell’s Kitchen, but no doubt the pleasant conversation would end as soon as the other boy realized he wasn’t from the same world as him. 

“I don’t see why I needed to tag along anyways,” The other boy mumbled, “I can read just as well at the house as I can here.” 

Matt laughed at that, feeling his own thought vocalized in such an indignant tone, “I thought the same thing, but apparently, fresh air is good for us.” 

The other boy laughed back and then offered a hand, “I’m Malcolm by the way,” 

“Matt,” He offered not moving to shake the hand he knew was there. He felt the pause as the boy’s, Malcolm’s, eyes no doubt flashed from his glasses to his cane sitting next to him and down at his braille book, and he retracted his hand, heating rising to his face. 

“What are you reading, Matt?” His voice was the same when he spoke. Not changing even after he realized his bench mate couldn’t see. It felt strange, usually, people changed how they spoke to him when they figured out he was blind, being softer, more gentle as if he was spun from glass, or they spoke down to him, acting like he was a baby simply because his eyes didn’t function. 

“Thurgood Marshall,” Matt replied waiting for the confusion only to be surprised once more. 

“He’s a supreme court justice isn’t he?” 

“Was, he retired in October.” 

“Oh really,” Malcolm hummed, “He did a lot of civil rights work, right?” 

“Yeah,” Matt found himself agreeing, “The first African American Supreme Court Justice, he was on the biggest fighters for equal voting rights, equal housing, and equal education rights.” 

“That’s really amazing,” 

“He wanted to fight for what he believed in and he did everything he could to make the world a better place,”

“I can stand behind that,” Malcolm said, thumbing the binding of his own book, “I never really looked into much about politics or laws, I usually gravitate more towards medicine and other sciences.” 

“Really?” Matt asked, head cocking, “What are you reading now?

“ Reptile Medicine and Surgery by Douglas Mader,” He replied back, “It’s about the struggles of diagnosing and treating various issues that different species of reptiles, along with how different animals react to different dosages and treatments.” 

“Is that an issue in a lot of places?” 

Malcolm nodded before quickly adding, “I just nodded, yeah it is cause most vets have had little training on how to treat non-mammals and it can cause lots of issues if you don’t know what to look for and what can cause stress in the animals.” 

“I never thought of it like that,” Matt hummed, “if there is a good percent of reptiles as pets, you would think an equal ratio of vets would be able to treat them.” 

“Yeah but you forget that…” 

It took Matt fifteen minutes to realize that his hand hadn’t slid across the page in front of him since Malcolm had arrived, another fifteen to realize that he had long since moved past polite and into a real conversation, unlike any he’d had since his dad had died. Over two hours they talked, topics going from books to reptiles, to medicine, Matt offering up a few complaints of accessibility even with  The new Americans with Disabilities Act being instituted, to psychology. 

It was Interesting, Matt gave, unwilling to label it as anything further. Fun, enjoyable, and nice were soft words, words he wasn’t allowed to use. He couldn’t be soft, even if Stick had abandoned him just like everyone else, it didn’t mean that he would forget his lessons. 

“Matthew!” Sister Joella called, walking over, “Sweetheart, it’s time to go, we need to get back to  Saint Agnes for Dinner .” 

He bristled as cutting his sentence off mid-word as he waited for Malcolm’s response, knowing that he couldn’t hide the fact he was one of the  nuns’ charges when she was calling him like that. 

“You’re leaving?” 

Matt felt shock overtake him again as the boy sounded heartbroken, his heart betraying no disgust or pity at the fact that Matt was an orphan. No Matt heard only… understanding?

“Yeah,” Matt sighed closing his book, “Can’t leave the Sisters waiting.” 

“Okay,” the deep sadness in the boy’s voice almost made Matt wince, “I guess this is goodbye?” 

“For now,” Matt couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out, “I mean, if you want to meet up again, we’re going to be here again next week, right Sister Joella?” 

The nun seemed surprised but the soft smile was evident on her voice as she responded, “Of course! We come either here or the pond every Friday. Next Friday we were planning to come here again if the weather permits us.” 

“Really?” Malcolm asked, “I’d love to! I mean that’d be great I can get my Nanny to bring me, and I’ll bring that book on Psychology I was telling you about, I can read you passages from it!” 

The smile pulling at Matt’s lips was completely unwanted but he couldn’t get it to go away, “Okay. I can see if I can get to the library and find a copy of Thurgood Marshall you can read then.” 

“Deal! Shake on it?” 

Matt offered out his hand and he almost laughed at how eager the other was to shake it, his excitement almost contagious. 

He couldn’t quite block out the nuns' ecstatic and disbelieving whispers that night at dinner as Joella proudly told them about how little Murdock had been animatedly talking to someone at the park. 

He didn’t mind as much as he thought he should, even if they did keep calling Malcolm Matt’s friend. 

He couldn’t be soft, couldn’t have friends, but talking to Malcolm was fine, right? 


	3. Beginnings

“Are you Matt?” 

He was expecting Malcolm with the latest book he had gotten, _ An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness  _ by  [ Kay Redfield Jamison ](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19038.Kay_Redfield_Jamison) , just like he had done for the last four weeks, on his lap but this wasn’t the bubbling acquaintance Matt had made. This was a man, mid-thirties if Matt had to guess, holding himself strongly, he was trained, the clink of metal on his belt said Police. Next to him was a small girl, maybe eight, long hair brushing over her collar as she looked at him.

“Why do you want to know,” He asked, hand reaching out to grab his cane, ready to scream and swing if the man tried to grab him, less likely with the girl here, but still a possibility.

“I told you,” The girl whined, “This is Matt, He’s always with Malcolm when we’re here.”

“You know Malcolm?” He asked quietly if it was an abduction then he was targeted for a specific reason, maybe Malcolm’s money?

“Uh-Huh,” She agreed, “He’s my brother.” 

The Blind boy finally relaxed, remembering how the other boy had explained and detailed how much his little sister was amazing and annoying, “You’re Ainsley?” 

“Yeah! Malcolm said we should find you.”

“Why? Is he okay?” He asked, realizing his fri- acquaintance wasn’t there. Why had Ainsley and this man (was he their dad?) come instead? 

“He’ll be okay,” The man relayed, “ My name is Gil Arroyo, I work with the NYPD and Malcolm wanted me to tell you that he can’t make it today because he’s sick.” 

Matt couldn’t stop his face from falling at those words, “But he’ll be okay?” 

“He’ll be okay,” The officer repeated, voice soft and soothing, “He started a new medication a few days ago and had a bad reaction to them. He stopped taking them but he needs another few days to get back on his feet.” 

“Oh...”Matt breathed, ignoring the knot in his chest that loosed as he heard Malcolm was fine, “That’s good. Thanks for letting me know.” 

“No problem kid,” Gil laughed, “He did say that you might be interested in hearing a few passages from his book though, would you like me to read them or wait until next week?” 

“You don’t need to-” 

“Gil does lots of things,” Ainsley cut in, “Cause he wants to, even when it’s my brother calling him at weird hours in the morning and not talk, just listening to Gil talk. He wouldn’t offer if he didn’t want to read to you.” 

Matt scrunched up his face, but the man’s heart was steady and even as ever, comforting almost. 

“No pressure, Matt,” He said, “I don’t have anywhere to be until six when my wife wants me home, but you can wait until next week for Malcolm if you’d prefer.” 

Matt was silent for a long moment, he wasn’t supposed to ask for things, but would Malcolm come back if he was rude to Gil? Whatever relationship they had was clearly a very deep one if they weren’t father and son. 

“It’s called The Summer of the Danes,” Gil read off, “by Ellis Peters. Malcolm said you usually share nonfictional books but this is a new medieval mystery novel from a series he enjoys and he has been itching to read it. The synopsis says that Brother Cadfael is pleased to join his young friend Mark, now a deacon, on a mission of church diplomacy in Wales. Traveling in the safety of the Prince of Geynedd’s train, they are brought to unexpected dangers, as they seek to keep a young Welsh woman free from harm.” 

Malcolm almost squirmed, it did sound interesting… but make-believe wasn’t supposed to be something he looked for. Stick used to snap about how consuming too much fiction would make him disconnect from reality. 

But Malcolm wanted him to hear it… 

“Can you read a little of it please?” 

He could feel Gil’s smile as the man sat down next to him on the bench, and Matt couldn’t help but stiffen as Ainsley climbed up on his other side, leaning into his arm lightly. 

“I want to hear too! Malcolm always reads stuff to me,” She said not bothered that her bench partner seemed to turn into a stone statue. 

Gil just laughed, patting his back lightly, “Breathe kid, she doesn’t bite, and she’ll move if you want her too.” 

“No, I’m okay.” 

Gil shook his head slightly, but opened the book and began to read. 

“ **_The Extraordinary events of the Summer of 1144 may properly be said to have began the previous year, in the tangle of threads both ecclesiastical and secular, a net in which any number of diverse people became enmeshed, clerics, from the archbishop down to Bishop Roger de Clinton’s lowiest deacon and the laity from the princes of the North Wales down to the humblest cottager in the trefs of Arfon. And among the commonality thus entrammelled, more to the point, an elderly Benedictine monk of the Abbey of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, a Shrewbury_ ** …” 

By the time Gil had finished the second chapter, Matt found himself relaxing, even if little Ainsley didn’t move far from his side, brushing up against him in a familiar way that made no sense since he had just met her a little over an hour before. The story was enthralling, the plotlines drawing Matt in swiftly as Gil’s low rumbling voice painted scene after scene for his sightless eyes to enjoy. He had even started poking fun at the man's voices for the different characters, barely able to keep a straight face once Heledd, the female lead in the book was introduced, but Ainsley insisted he continues the voices, something Matt wouldn’t admit he was pleased about. 

As the third chapter grew to a close, Ainsley’s attention seemed to waver. The quiet jangle of a bell told him why before she even opened his mouth. 

“Can we get ice cream?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Gil answered with no hesitation as he used the dust sleeve to mark his place.

“Yes!” She cheered hopping to her feet, “I want bubblegum, and chocolate, and strawberry-” 

“You can get one flavor Ains,” Gil cut in, “What would you like Matt?” 

“Oh, I’m fine, no need to bother” He quickly replied, even as Ainsley grabbed his hand.

“It’s really no bother,” the man soothed, “It’ll be good for us to take a break from reading anyways.”

“I… I can’t,” Matt barely breathed, waiting for the disgust, “My stomach…” 

Gil was quiet, his heart squeezing oddly, “Is this an ongoing problem? Being sensitive to different food?” 

“Yes…” Stick would beat him for being so weak.

“That’s okay,” Gil soothed, “Food can be tricky, we could get you something lighter, like a popsicle or just some vanilla ice cream-” 

“No,” Matt’s stomach twisted into an icy ball, “No vanilla.” 

“Okay, what about citrus, how do you do with that?”

Matt thought for a second, “It’s usually fine, as long as it’s not overly sugared.” 

The man nodded, “Okay. I’ll be right back.” 

As he walked away, Ainsley rocked lightly on her heels, “Gil doesn’t mind you know?”

“What?” 

“He’s used to people not handling food real well,” She told him, “Malcolm is bad with food too, he has been since Daddy got taken away.” 

“Gil isn’t your dad?” 

“No, he’s the one that took daddy away,” Ainsley explained, “Mommy said Daddy hurt a lot of people and so he has to go away for a long time. Malcolm was really sad about it. Gil worries about us a lot so he comes and makes sure we’re okay now that daddy’s gone.” 

“That’s nice of him,” Matt said with a smile he hoped didn’t look like a grimace. Malcolm and he had a sort of understanding that personal questions weren’t something they liked dealing with. He never asked and Malcolm never shared but for some reason, he wanted to know what had happened to his frie- acquaintance, His acquaintance. 

He let Ainsley chat aimlessly to him until Gil returned with their treats, slowly taking his. 

“Maybe you can read next time, Matt,” Ainsley suggested between licks to her ice cream, strawberry from the smell of it, “I think you’d do fun voices.” 

“We’d have to find another book,” He hummed, not really registering the suggestion, too busy savoring the cool popsicle. It was amazing, one of the best things he’s ever eaten. The lemon wasn’t from concentrate, instead of using fresh juice and zest, just a little sugar to turn the overly sour taste into an enjoyable tart. 

“Why?” 

“The book is too new,” He replied easily, with a shrug, “I’d expect it to be at least a year before they make it in braille and for the libraries to get it. Though the new ADA laws being passed might get it out a little faster.” 

“They don’t just make the books you can read when they make the books we can read?” 

“No,” Usually these questions just felt tedious to explain to everyone, but the general earnest in Ainsley’s voice made the questions easy to answer, “They need a special printer to make a book in braille and they don’t have as many braille printers as text printers so it takes longer.” 

“That’s dumb,” She whined, leaning into his side, “You like books almost as much as Malcolm, you should have all the books!” 

“I think the nuns would protest to that,” 

“Then they’re dumb-dumbs. I’m gonna get you all the books so that you can read them or I’m gonna learn to read really good and read them all to you!” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at her proclamation, “That sounds amazing Ainsley.” 

It really really did.

* * *

  
  


When Malcolm left the precinct early, instead of being drug out by Gil he could see the surprise on the team’s face, Dani quickly asking if he was feeling okay, but he just brushed them off, holding up the business card Matt had dropped off as they were leaving the station.    
  


He was on a mission and he wasn’t about to wait any longer, especially since the case was on hold for a few hours as they secured a warrant. 

The door opened right as Malcolm was about to reach it, Foggy sticking his head out. 

“Matt heard me?” He asked, watching the blond pale.

“What no, of course not! You know all that stuff they say about the other senses compensating if bullshit.” 

“Moth boy!” Malcolm called gruffly, as he pushed passed the stuttering lawyer swiftly “Want to tell me all about this Devilish handsome figure that’s apparently flipping through Hell’s Kitchen?” 

There were two more people in the office, a pale blonde woman whose eyes had blown huge as he entered and a dark brunette that simply raised an eyebrow, holding herself defensively, but Matt didn’t look worried, instead, his face twisted in a worried snarl. 

“Depends,” His voice was low, Malcolm only able to discern the anxiety in his tone from years of knowing him, “Want to tell me about Watkins and how your dad ended up in the hospital?” 

“Ohh,” Malcolm hummed, “Someone did their research, but I asked first.” 

“No I asked first,” Matt snapped, “Back at the precinct.” 

“My escapades are well documented through the news, and by retelling of my sister for her new very loyal following, you, on the other hand, get away with only ghost stories, broken bones and a few shaky pictures of a man in an armored Halloween costume,” He shouted back, moving into Matt’s face, “I mean Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Anyone that spends enough time with you could piece it together, it’s not like you don’t say ‘Murdock boys have the Devil in them,’ at the drop of a hat or anything!” 

“Oh, I don’t want to hear the moral high ground from you, resident! You let your mom stab your father!” 

Malcolm faltered, making Matt pause as his heart flipped. 

The room grew silent as Matt glared at the other man, “You’re hiding something.” 

“Always,” Malcolm slide in easily, their old inside joke falling short. 

“Mal…” 

“I can’t tell you,” He answered back, “Not about that, the trail hasn’t even started yet for Mother.” 

“If I wanted to see boyfriend drama,” The brunette grumbled, “I would go find a case, what the hell is even happening, Murdock?” 

“Yeah,” The other woman added, “I’d like to know that as well.” 

“Hello,” Malcolm greeted, “I’m Malcolm Bright, this blind reckless idiot’s best friend, we’re currently discussing how we’re both lack sense of self-preservation and how we’re mad at each other for not sharing our latest escapees, and you are?” 

“Karen,” The blonde answered with a raised brow, “I’ve been working with Matt and Foggy on for over a year now. 

“Ah,” He smiled, “You must be the Page of the Nelson, Murdock, and Page then, and you Miss?”

“Jessica Jones,” She offered, “ Thought Nelson was Murdock’s best friend?” 

“He has two,” Foggy shrugged, “He’s known Malcolm for longer and they both have the same dumbass martyr thought process.”

“Not a martyr,” The pair answered in unison. 

“Not from a lack of trying,” Foggy mumbled, “But either way, I guess you figured out Matt’s night job?” 

“Profiler. Didn’t even know about Daredevil until today, guess the only good news is someone has to know you pretty well to see the clues, Moth.” 

Matt scowled at him, “Can we go back to the fact you were kidnapped and then witnessed your mom stab your father through the heart?” 

“No. Can’t tell you anything about Mother anyways.”

Matt squinted at him, or rather at his ear, before holding out a hand, “Wallet,” 

“Why?” He asked even as he handed it over. Matt fumbled through it a little pulling out four bills. 

“Are these all the same amount?” 

“Yes, hundreds,” Malcolm answered with a raised brow. 

“Rich boy,” Matt mumbled with a fond eye roll, “One for Jess, one for Karen, one for Foggy and One for me. Congrats Mr. Bright, you just hired three lawyers and a PI. You now have attorney-client privilege and PI level discreetment. Tell us what happened with your mother and the carousel killer.” 

Malcolm just sat there blinking in confusion for a long minute before he let out a soul-weary groan, “I hate you.” 

Matt just smiled back, “No you don’t.” 


End file.
